Sendoff
by Micisuewho
Summary: Westallen flashback: Barry goes away to college.
1. Chapter 1

The nights before Barry's college sendoff were both exhausting and perfect. Every evening began with a short conversation, a pot of coffee and plenty of smiling. Then, they would end up on the floor, side by side, staring at the ceiling. They let sentences flow from their mouths that didn't always make much sense. Sometimes they laughed, sometimes they cried, but every night, Barry's thoughts were clouded by the hopeless wish for something more.

Holding her hand was the only thing he ever permitted himself to do. It was the only thing he could think of to express how much he truly loved her without losing her.

It was unbearable how often he held back the intense urge to kiss her whenever they were near each other. He held back urges time and time again to hold her in both arms and kiss her, just wanting her to _know_ that he loved her, no matter what she felt in response_._

The thing that haunted him most was how she held his hand as well. His hand was her anchor. Her grip was the perfect combination of firm and gentle, never letting go, but always comfortable. She would smooth his skin with her thumb and sometimes bring his hand to her lips. She never realized the reaction he had. Sinking into his own desire, pitying himself and feeling like a complete idiot.

2am was always where they'd end up. Barry liked to convince Iris that it was their right, as high school graduates, to completely screw up their sleep schedule. She would laugh at him, and then give in because she didn't want to leave him. She would get as close to him as she could, resting one arm over his stomach and her head on his chest, closing her eyes and waiting for the moment to end, but secretly hoping that it wouldn't.

The last night before he left was accompanied by a heavy silence that hadn't been there before. Iris came back from work to see Barry sitting on the couch, and she didn't say a word when she saw him. She looked at him with glossy eyes and waited for him to say something to her, but nothing came out. He didn't have to gesture anything for her to make her way towards him with iron feet and sinking shoulders.

Her feet carried her quietly and slowly to where he was. She sat down next to him, scooting close and lifting his left arm to put it around her shoulders. She nuzzled her face in the crook of his neck and squeezed her eyes shut above her frown. For the longest time, they stayed like that. They didn't move, or speak or cry, or laugh. The only thing they could hear was the sound of breathing and beating hearts.

Every hour brought about a new thought about what would happen next. When he left, who would take his place? Who would she meet to keep her company and fill the empty hole that he left behind? Who would hold her after he leaves? Who would she stay up late talking to? Who would have the courage that he lacked to kiss her and tell her the way she makes him feel? He wished he could tell her before leaving that he loves her, and doesn't know how to stop, but his words were all caught in his throat and his mind was set on saying nothing at all.

She kissed the skin of his neck without thinking and he sank deeper into the couch. He touched her hair with his right hand and pressed quivering lips to the top of her forehead.

Around three in the morning, he felt her tears against his skin, and she gasped for breath between her soft sobs. He couldn't cry. He _wanted _to, but he was numb more than anything else. The thought of being away from her terrified him, but he couldn't make himself cry for it. Maybe it was because he knew that letting himself feel more pain than he already did would keep him from getting on the plane the next morning.

His eyes were tired, and he shut them before tilting his head closer to her. His arms held her tighter and when her crying was quieter than before, he opened his mouth to say it. To say the words he'd wanted to say so badly since he met her. He tried to get them out, but the hesitation lasted too long. She fell asleep. Peaceful, in his arms.

_I love you, Iris West. _

The thoughts still came, as they did so often, but the words were regretfully held back. Soon after, he gave up on staying awake, and drifted off as well, hoping he might share Iris' dream.

When he wakes up, she's still in his arms, no longer sleeping, but placid, unmoved. She blinks a few times before he moves his head and she notices he's woken up too. She looks up at him when he does, and reaches up to poke his nose.

"Today's the day, isn't it?" She sits up and grabs his right arm with both of her hands. "You're going off to college." He allows himself half a smile for her sake and then raises his eyebrows and gives her an exaggerated nod. She looked like she wanted to say something else for a moment, but it was like she didn't know _what_. The silence from the previous night returns and they lock eyes, then she crosses her arms in front of her and rises to her feet. "Come on. Get up. You're going to go get dressed, and so am I, then we're meeting up in the kitchen for coffee, you got it?"

He nods again, but it's smaller this time, and what follows is stillness.

"Barr" she stares down at him. "Did you hear me?"

"Yes. Yeah I heard you." The pace of his words is slow and sharp. "Sorry… still waking up." He rubs his eyes, and then before he can do it himself, Iris grabs his hands and pulls him to his feet.

"Come on, slow poke." she says. He watches her walk away and his vision goes blurry when she reaches the foot of the stair case. "What are you _waiting _for?"

His feet finally start moving toward her, but every step feels more forced than the next. "I'm sorry!" he says, sarcastically. "I told you I'm still waking up, mother." Iris turns around and sticks her tongue out at him. He tries to return her playful corrosiveness, but he can't help laughing through it.

After they've both dressed themselves, Joe fixes a pot of coffee, and the three of them pour their share in styrofoam cups.

"You ready, Barry?" says Joe, smiling, and grabbing his jacket.

"As I'll ever be." Barry responds, and moments later they're in the car.

Events move at an unrealistically swift pace. The trunk of the car is already loaded with Barry's stuff, so the second they finish pouring their coffee, they head out to the car. Iris calls shotgun, and Barry is forced to sit in the back, but it doesn't make much of a difference. She might as well have sat next to him because the entire drive, she's turned around to see him and talk to him. By the time they reach the airport, Barry has lost track of the conversation and they're preparing to put him on the plane. His memory of getting there is filled with holes and blank spaces.

Iris and Joe stand in front of him now. Tears are threatening to roll down Iris' red cheeks once again, and Joe has pressed his lips together to stop them from shaking.

"Guys…" Barry doesn't know what else to say. He has half a smile on his face and he licks his lips, looking back and forth between the two of them and dropping his bags beside him on the floor.

"I'm so proud of you, Barry." Joe says, bringing his hand to smooth out his face as soon as he gets out the sentence. "You have no idea how proud I am."

Barry opens his arms and invites Joe into a hug that lasts a few short moments and ends with two firm pats on his back. When they part, his eyes immediately shift to Iris, who can't even bring herself to look at him. She has her hands folded in front of her, twiddling her thumbs and watching them make circles around each other. Barry looks back to Joe, and he gives him a sad smile. Then Barry walks to Iris and slides his hands beneath her arms at the waist, moving them around her and connecting them behind her back. His mouth goes to her ear and he whispers to her.

"I'll come back." he says softly. "And I'll be calling you almost every night, so stop being sad because you're not losing me, okay?" He feels her start to shake. "You could never lose me." Almost as soon as he says those last words her arms swing around his neck and she squeezes him until he can barely breathe. They embrace for what feels like an hour, and she does her best not to cry any more than she already has.

"Every week." Her words are muffled by his shirt, but she pulls away, leaving her hands behind his neck. "I know that college is demanding and you'll be busy, but forgetting to call me isn't an option okay." She frowns at him until he nods and then her expression softens. "And I'll be visiting." she adds, holding back tears. "You better make time for me when I do, okay?"

His hand slide up her back and make their way to comb through her hair and gently hold her head.

"I will always make time for you, Iris West." he says. He allows those words to be the last thing she hears him say before he goes through security. He looks back at her one more time before boarding the plane, then she disappears from his sight, and he misses her instantly. An ache unlikely to leave.


	2. Chapter 2

The phone only rang for half a second before it was pressed against her ear. Her heart had skipped a beat or two. This is what she looked forward to at the end of every long day, and she'd begun to anticipate it now more than she did at first. She expected them to be weekly, but being wrong was such a privilege. His voice made the days without him a little more tolerable.

"Six o'clock, Barry." she shouts through the phone, pretending to be upset with him "Every night you call me at six o'clock, but guess what time it is now!"

Barry smirks. "Hi, Iris." he says, ignoring her faux frustration.

"Ah-ah-ah No. What time is it, Barry?"

Barry lets out a chuckle, and then responds. "Six O-"

"Six O three! How _dare you_?" she interrupts, happy to hear him laughing on the other end. "This isn't funny. I was terrified. What if something happened to you? What if you got attacked? Mugged?!" Barry rolls over on the bed until his back is flat on the mattress and his eyes stick to the blank white ceiling of his dormitory, painting her face with his imagination.

It had been a few months now since he left for college, and they hadn't seen each other at all, but every night they spoke on the phone. Every night at precisely 6:00, he would call her and she would tell him about her day. He would tell her about the people in his classes, the weird ones and the nice ones and the ones who thought they were better than the rest of them, and the ones who thought they could never be. His roommate was never around at that time of night, so Barry knew he could call her with no interruptions. He knew she would answer because she always does. If she ever didn't, there would be a hole in his chest, and he wouldn't know how to fill it. He would simply have to go to sleep and live with the hole until she answered his call the next night.

Luckily, that wasn't an issue. She set aside the time, and waited for his call. Every night, she waited for his call.

"Iris, I can protect myself. I'm-I'm a badass." He presses his hand against his chest, raising his eyebrows to reassure her of his confidence, as if she can see him. She bursts into laughter, moving the phone away from her ear to throw her head back and laugh harder. Barry gasps, and then every muscle in his face helps his expression turn to a frown. "I'm going to forgive you for laughing so hard." he says, but she doesn't hear him. She's still laughing. When she finally manages to compose herself, she puts the phone back to her ear.

"I'm sorry—I just—Barry, you're so little." She pouts her lips slightly at the end of the sentence.

"Excuse you, I'm _fit,_ Iris." She giggles softly as he speaks. "I'm agile too. If anything, I can jump around until they get tired, and then I can—I can throw a couple good punches." His voice goes squeaky.

"_Suuure_." She says, sarcastically. She laughs again, and then goes quiet, fidgeting with the fabric of her skirt. "Barry…" she murmurs.

It's so soft. He doesn't even know if she meant to say it out loud, but his name sounds nice on her breath.

"I miss you…" she says. He can hear her tapping her fingers against the phone. But he can't see the look on her face, and she wouldn't want him to. There's almost tears in her eyes. Living without him around isn't killing her, but it doesn't make the air any easier to breathe. She would gladly trade a couple breaths for a hug. She would trade so much just to see him for a few minutes, and he would give anything to watch her laugh instead of just hear her laughter through a distorted cell phone.

"I miss you too…" He closes his eyes and listens to the silence between them, waiting for either of them to end it. Letting the words linger in the air, and ring in her ears, and sit in her thoughts.

"I want to see you." she says, finally.

"Yeah I- I want to see you too."

"No I want to see you as soon as possible." Her words quicken. "I'm going to visit. As soon as possible, I'm going to be there." Barry doesn't know how to react at first, but when he processes her words, he sits up.

"You're… What?" Barry rubs his arm and chews on his lower lip. "Iris… You can't afford that." His fingers press firmly into his skin, turing white.

"I can! I can save up for a plane ticket. I have to see you, Barry. I miss my best friend too much. I don't know how much longer I can survive this." She shrugs.

"Oh yeah? You're- Are you dying there without me?" He chuckles. Iris nods, but quickly realizes he can't see her, and speaks up.

"I'm crushed. I'm absolutely crushed. But mostly because I don't have anyone interesting to drink coffee with in the mornings." She sighs. "Well okay, I mean Dad's alright, but I don't have anyone who will babble to me about things I don't understand. Don't you get it, Barry? I _need _that."

She doesn't realize how perfect it feels for him to hear those words from her. That she _needs _him. Even amidst her sarcasm, the idea makes his heart flutter and his fingers curl up. She rambles on about money plans. Washing her Dad's car on top of her job to earn a little extra money. She says she'll kiss his ass if it will get him to give her more money. She talks working extra shifts and putting aside change people leave behind. Whatever she can do to make it to him.

She rambles on, and he listens with a grin from ear to ear. It _could _work. She _could _visit. Even if it's only for a day or two. One visit would put him on cloud nine until Christmas. They only have a few more months until break, but her eagerness to see him before then makes his whole body shiver.

"Barry…" she finally slows down and says his name again, a little louder this time. "Even if I have to work until I can't feel my feet, I will be there by next week." A few moments of quiet allows Barry to let the thought sink in deeper. _One week and he could have her in front of him again. One week, and maybe he would have the courage to tell her how he feels. _

"Okay." He sighs. "Get your ass over here."


	3. Chapter 3

Barry hardly slept at all the night before her plane landed. Thoughts scurried around in his head, keeping him wide awake. Excitement kept his eyes open. He tossed and turned and grunted, patiently waiting for the sun to show up, and constantly checking the time. Around 3am, Barry stopped trying. He sat up and stared at the clock for a few minutes before getting up altogether and going to the fridge for a snack. He pulled a tub of mint chip from the freezer and sat down on the couch with a spoon. Stopping his thoughts turned out to be a lot harder than he'd anticipated.

She was everywhere in his mind. _Everywhere._ He couldn't wait any longer to see her, and knowing he _had_ to made him restless. Patience wasn't a virtue it was a curse. It was forced upon him, and he didn't want it.

The ice cream didn't do much except keep his hands busy. Then his phone buzzed twice and moved a few centimeters on the coffee table. He picked it up and saw her name, pressing the button to open the text.

_**Barry? –Iris**_

One by one they came, all accompanied by the out dated signature she never bothered to erase.

_**I can't sleep. –Iris **_

_**Did I wake you up? –Iris **_

He tapped the keys in response.

_**You're fine. I can't sleep either.**_

_**Tomorrow needs to come faaassttteerrr. –Iris**_

_**You mean today?**_

_**Oh yeah! OH MY GOD IT'S TODAY –Iris**_

_**Lol I have brownies waiting for you.**_

_**You're an utter angel –Iris **_

There wasn't much depth to the conversation, but nonetheless, it wasn't a brief one. They complained to each other about their inability to relax enough for slumber. They jokingly blamed it on the other person.

_**It's your fault. You're the one I can't wait to see anyway.**_

And similar text messages shot back and forth in an ongoing pattern of playful banter. Eventually, Barry managed an hour or so of sleep. He woke up to a few more text messages, in which Iris complained about him falling asleep. When the sun came up, his first instinct was to make himself busy. _Go to class. Get lunch. She'll be here in a couple hours. _

The day was long, and Barry was anxious, but now she runs toward him, arms wide and beaming. Everything in this moment is exactly perfect.

"Barry!" she yells, and hits him at full force, throwing him back on his heels, one foot quickly placed behind him for balance. Her arms wrap tight around his neck and his hands go to her lower back. When he finds his balance again, he lifts her off of her feet and swings her around in a circle. "ermssdyusermuch" Her words are muffled by his shoulder. He chuckles and touches her feet to the ground again, pulling away to see her eyes.

"What was that?" he says.

Her smile softens and her arms fall to rest at her sides. "I missed you, weirdo." She punches his arm.

"Ow." He grabs his arm and rubs his thumb over where she hit. "Unnecessary." He finishes, smiling.

"Yeah yeah." She waves her hand around in his face like a feather. "Help me carry my bags." Barry looks at the ground behind her. Three bags.

"Three?! Why do you have three bags?!"

Iris scowls at him. "Excuse me. It takes a lot to look this great." she says, finishing with a smirk. She never needed to do much to look beautiful though. No matter her personal thoughts, to him, she could wear a garbage bag and still look like royalty. "Plus I only have one big bag and two little ones. Clothes in the big bag, makeup and toiletries in one of the small ones, and then I brought a game and—" She stops herself and looks at him "I don't need to explain myself to you. Pick something up, mister." Iris has already picked up her clothing bag, so Barry bends down and scoops up the two little ones.

"Car?" says Iris, and Barry points to where he parked.

When they get to the apartment, Barry has Iris close her eyes. She doesn't know what to think at first, but then she squeezes her eyes shut. Barry turns the nob and the door clicks open.

"Open your mouth." She hears him say after a few short moments.

"I don't trust this." She says, but opens her mouth anyway. Soon, the sweet taste of chocolate is overwhelming her senses and she's sinking her teeth into absolute divinity. She opens her eyes, and Barry is still holding the brownie in his hand with a smirk on his face.

"Delicious, right?" he says.

"I thought you were just kidding!" she says after a swift nod. She walks further into the apartment, grabbing the brownie out of his hand as she passes him. "Where's the box?" she inquires, turning on her toes to face him, and raising an eyebrow.

"No box." Barry folds his arms over his chest.

"Don't you lie to me." She takes another bite of the brownie.

"I made them from scratch." The look of pride on his face is a perfect blend of annoying and adorable.

She shakes her head. "No you didn't." She starts to look for the box again, but Barry walks over to her and grabs her wrists, making her look at him.

"I swear there's no box. I made them. I found a recipe online and got the ingredients. I haven't even put all the stuff away yet." Barry points to the kitchen area where there are multiple ingredients scattered around on the counter. There are a few drips of oil on the ground still and flower is spread all over the surface of the counter.

"There's no catch?" Iris looks at him.

He shakes his head. "No catch."

"You didn't spit in them or anything?" She narrows her eyes.

"Oh wait yeah I did do that. But it added flavor, so I think that's a win." He laughs at himself, and she tilts her head to the right, tempted to hit his arm again.

The air around them thickens and they become silent, lingering on each other's gaze for a moment or so before Iris' smile returns, lovely as ever. She bites her lip, and then he's enveloped in her arms again, and she's on her toes to reach him. He hugs her back, softer now than before and they stay that way for a moment or so. He reaches up to hold her head with his right hand.

He had a few more things planned for them before she had to go home, but even if this moment was all they got, he would take it, and frame it, and memorize every detail.


	4. Chapter 4

The plan for the evening was pretty simple. He would tell her she could sleep on the couch and wouldn't have to worry about Barry's roommate because he's been sleeping at his girlfriend's. Then they would order a pizza and watch a movie. They could talk through the movie if they felt like it, but at least they would have some background noise. Something other than just the sound of their voices.

Iris, however, didn't want background noise. She didn't want distraction. She wasn't going to turn down pizza, but it's been a couple hours and they still haven't ordered any, so she munched on the brownies he made instead. Plans change, and the plan seemed to have gone from a solid scheduled event to a casual conversation that bled into all hours of the night.

Midnight comes, and still they're stretched out on the couch, her legs across his lap and his hands folded on top of them. They talk about everything, catching up on each other's missing three months. They don't exactly have much to tell that hasn't already been addressed in past conversations, but they find new things. Somehow they dig deeper and come up with untold stories.

Barry squirms at hearing her talk about a boy she has a crush on, doing his best to act normal. She says the guy hardly ever looks her way, which is strange to Barry because he didn't realize it was possible to skip over Iris as if she is anything less than gold. She tells him the guy's ignorance is mostly because they rarely see each other. He comes into her work once a week at always the same time of day, and orders the same thing and sits in the same spot. At first it sounds to Barry like she only thinks he's attractive, but then she goes on to talk about having overheard some of his phone conversations. Sometimes he brings in a friend. She hears them talk, and she talks to them. Short conversations about nothing really, but he makes jokes and she laughs, and he goes back to talking about his family, and his work at the hospital.

_Damn it, the man actually has qualities that women find admirable. _

Barry scratches his nose and runs his fingers through his hair. He looks at her. She's got her head resting on the arm of the couch and her hands relaxed on top of her stomach. It's quiet now, and Barry's still trying to pick and choose his next sentence with caution.

"Well he's an idiot." Those probably weren't the right words.

"No he's not, Barr." She rolls her eyes.

"No- hear me out." he says. She lifts her head to look at him, one eyebrow raised. "He's an idiot for not noticing you." The words still sound funny in his mouth. "You're too great. It's like failing to realize that the sun is in the sky." _Nailed it._

Barry can't decipher Iris' expression. Her lips are barely forming a smile, but it looks almost forced. Like she's got something in her mouth.

"That's so…" she starts, looking away from him and exaggerating the 'o'. She makes a circle with her head and then bounces it back in his direction. "Cheesy." she finishes. Iris grins, and starts to make sounds like she's half laughing and half hyperventilating. Barry smiles, despite having had his compliment desregarded.

"Hey! That was sweet. That was not cheesy, and you are ungrateful." Barry shrugs. Now, Iris is giggling like she's four years old again.

"Ungrateful?" she scoffs.

"Yeah. Ungrateful for your amazing best friend who gives you sweet syrupy compliments—that—that you just shoot down." He measures his words and ends with a huff. Iris goes quiet then, a lingering smile on her face, and looks at him for a few minutes. Barry stares at the black screen of the TV and zones out. He wishes she would forget about the guys she hardly knows. He doesn't want her thinking about the people she only speaks to when they enter restaurant. He wishes her thoughts weren't clouded by handsome strangers that she seems to deem prince charming. Quit it with the clichés, where's the story where the princess falls for the jester?

Her lips press against his cheek and he's shocked out of disgruntlement.

"Thank you." She says. Then she lays back down and rests her head on the arm of the couch again. He listens to her breathe for a moment or so. She stares at the ceiling.

He debates whether he should tell her everything. Right now. Maybe he should trade in comfort for the sweet relief of letting go. She's not tied up in anything serious. She only has a crush. Maybe she feels the same way. Maybe he would finally know what it feels like to taste her lips on his, live out the dream he's kept hidden his whole life.

"You know, Barry." Iris breaks the silence, closing her eyes. "If I could freeze any moment in time, any moment at all and stay in that moment for the rest of my life I think I would choose this one." Barry's heart flutters in his chest. She would freeze _this _moment? She would choose to keep this moment, just the two of them, together, talking for the rest of their lives? That has to mean _something_. It has to matter that she would choose to freeze this moment forever. That she saw this moment as one that was perfect enough to keep going. Barry can't think of anything to say.

"And you said _I _was cheesy." Except that. He couldn't think of anything to say except that. _Just stop talking._

Iris chuckles and punches his arm. "Shut up." She mutters. "What about you? What would you choose?"

It doesn't take him long to find his answer because he really doesn't care which moment, so long as she was in it with him, _that's _the moment he would choose. If he could find a way to freeze time and be with her, looking at her, talking to her, telling her about his day, and listening to her tell him about hers, he would do it in a heartbeat. Even if he had to listen to her talk about other guys and ramble about her how cute they were and make fun of him and tug on his hair, and _kiss his cheek_. He would choose any moment in time, _any of them_, where they were together, and forget any moment where they weren't.

"Any moment with you." He says under his breath. For a moment he thinks maybe he can say it. Maybe he can tell her what has been weighing on his heart since they were kids. The love he didn't understand before that is so perfectly clear now. He wants to tell her. He _has _to tell her. He takes a deep breath in. "Iris." He looks over at her. She's asleep. She fell asleep. _Of course _she fell asleep. He sighs and looks back at the black TV screen. He pictures the moment that didn't happen, just for a second, with mixed feelings of disappointment and relief. He'll tell her. _Eventually _he'll be able to tell her. Just not right now.

Carefully, he lifts her legs from his lap and places them on the couch where he was sitting. He grabs the blanket that he prepared from the edge of the couch and lays it on top of her. One more sigh slips out before he starts for his own bed.

"Thanks, Barr." He hears her mutter with tired lips. He looks back at her. She has half a smile on her face. Then he forces himself to look away and finally goes to bed.


	5. Chapter 5

Barry wakes up to the sound of running water. He takes his sweet time getting out of bed, rubbing his eyes and stretching. It takes a minute or so for his mind to start asking questions. _Is that Iris? Is Iris in his shower?_

He stands up and walks toward the bathroom, straightening out his pajama pants and scratching his bare chest.

"Iris, is that you in the shower?" he says through a yawn.

"What?!" she yells back at him.

"IS THAT YOU IN THE SHOWER?!" he raises his voice.

"I FEEL LIKE YOU SHOULD KNOW THE ANSWER BY NOW." Barry stares long and hard at the door before answering.

"….. OKAY.." he yells at her. "Right.. Whatever. It's morning." He walks away from the bathroom door, mumbling to himself and going towards the kitchen to fix himself breakfast.

He opens the fridge. He has a few options. There's some orange juice, which is definitely going to accompany whatever choice he makes. He doesn't remember putting it there, but there's a box of cereal on the top shelf. _Cereal doesn't belong in the fridge… _he thinks to himself, but nonetheless leaves the box where it is and continues to browse. Milk, fruit, and yogurt – probably all bad – cream cheese – in case of bagels – eggs….. _eggs._

He reaches forward and grabs two eggs. He observes them momentarily, trying to make up his mind about whether to fry or scramble them.

Resolving to scramble them, he digs through the drawer for ham and cheese. _No ham. _Cheese and cheese alone could help him now. Tucked away at the back of the drawer is a bag of shredded mozzarella. He takes it in his hand and makes his way to the stove.

He searches for a skillet, moving at a pace similar to that of a sloth. The skillet would _usually _be somewhere near the stove, but Barry can't locate it. He glances at the sink, and then there it Is, the crusty skillet on top of a pile of other dirty dishes.

He reluctantly rinses the skillet and puts it on the stove.

The eggs sizzle when they hit the pan, and Barry starts to scramble them together.

The pitter patter of shower water and Iris' faint humming come as a distraction to certainly burn Barry's breakfast. His thoughts trip over each other at the sound of her humming. He imagines her running hands over bare shoulders, and through her hair. He tries to stop the thoughts in their tracks, but they move faster than he can command them. She hums a tune as her hands make their way towards her legs. Slowly, they glide across her skin and up towards her—

"AH!" His hand falls and hits the hot pan. "Shit! Ow! Ah!" he hops around on one foot, cradling the burnt hand with the other and bringing them up towards his face. He doesn't notice his elbow inching towards the hot skillet. One more hop and his elbow hits the skillet, flipping it over on to the floor and flying the eggs through the air to splat against the wall.

"SHIT!" He flinches, jumping away from the stove as if it were some animal that might attack again. The eggs drip down. One falls completely onto the counter. He doesn't move an inch, but he watches the eggs drip and listens to the sizzling of the pan. He reaches for his now burnt elbow and winces when he touches it. "Ah…. Yeah I guess I deserved that." He strains to say.

"Barry?! Are you okay?!" Barry turns around to witness a very wet, very concerned Iris wrapped in nothing but a single white towel.

"Shit." He mutters to himself for the last time, but he isn't referring to the eggs. "Umm yeah.. I'm fine I just." He looks over his shoulder at the mess. "Just had a little breakfast mishap." He looks back at her.

"Are you hurt?" She inquires, leaning forward a little. Barry quickly lets go of his elbow and tries to relax.

"Nah.." he says, releasing a small chuckle.

"Good." She says, and suddenly her eyes narrow and her mouth has shaped into a seductive smile. "Because I'm going to need you to be in good shape for this next part." Barry's eyebrows reach for the top of his head as Iris' towel falls to her ankles. She is exposed. Completely. In front of him. "Ya know, Barry?" she says softly, walking towards him with grace. Swaying her hips and keeping both eyes locked on him. "I've always been curious what it would be like…" And then her hands are flat against his bare chest, sliding up to his neck and behind his ears. She leans forward, her lips grazing his ear. "…To kiss you." She whispers. She kisses his neck. "To touch you." She kisses down his neck and along his collar bones. Barry shudders, his eyes forced closed by the sensation of her lips on his skin.

"I…" he starts. She raises her head so that their lips are nearly touching. He murmurs her name without meaning to.

"What is it, Barr?" she moves an inch closer. He could kiss her. And he does.

He holds her close, gently tugging on her lips with his own. His tongue slides along her bottom lip and then meets hers somewhere above it. He brings his hands up to run his fingers through her hair. She moans against his mouth, one quick shaky breath combined with the soft melody of pleasure, and then pulls away.

"What now, Barry?" she says, still pressing into him. Barry doesn't respond. He's under a trance. Out of focus, thanks to her glossy lips still so close to his. He barely moves, reaching with only his mouth to kiss her again. "Barry?" she repeats, and then he looks her in the eyes. "Barry?!"

He blinks a few times, and then sees her standing back where she was before, the towel still wrapped around her, her wet hair on her shoulders.

"I asked you what happened?" she says, one hand waving in front of her, ready to receive an answer after much too long a daydream.

"Oh… I just.." Barry moves his hand to cover his crotch. "Uh-umm. Yeah I just… Screwed up my breakfast. Burned myself a little on the pan, and then uh—knocked it off the stove." He keeps uncomfortably throwing his free hand in the direction of the mess and looking over his shoulder at the eggs. He fakes his best smile.

She laughs. "You had quite the reaction. God, Barry. I thought you were being attacked or something." Barry forces some sort of laughter through his tight mouth.

"Heh… Yeah no just umm… Just crazy ninja eggs." he says, failing to relax himself with another stupid joke. He tries to laugh one more time, but it comes out as more of a gasp. "Y-You should probably go get dressed." he says, scratching his neck.

Iris looks down at her barely covered body, her cheeks turning a bright red. "Right! Yes… Good point." She stands there uncomfortably and sways for longer than she intends to, and then walks back to the bathroom, biting her lip.

Barry is finally able to relax his shoulders, but his pulse is still racing.

"Pull yourself together." He whispers to himself.


End file.
